Constable
by LittleBrotherSocket
Summary: Maybe getting a job wasn't such a good idea... Or was it?


**Oh, gosh... I practically forgot about Urbain Month! Fear not! I shall rescue this sadly neglected baby holiday! *charges forth with a random drabble***

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><p>"Pardon?"<p>

Urbain cleared his throat. "I would like to apply for a job."

"And why does this concern me?" The man looked sternly down at him, his wild brown hair shadowing his dark, menacing face. Despite the boy's attempts to look as grown-up and masculine as possible, the man did not appear to be impressed.

The Vendome Soccer Club's star shooter didn't cower that easily, however, and stood even taller, adjusting his green tie slightly. "Well, sir," he answered professionally, "you looked important. I thought you might be able to help me." His reasoning didn't sound quite as professional as he'd hoped, but he figured he'd pulled it off alright.

"Hmph," the man grunted. "How old are you, boy?'

"...Fifteen, sir."

"Fifteen?! Ha!" Slapping his thigh, the man began to laugh, the sound echoing through the large building. "Why don't we just make you chief inspector, eh?"

Urbain blushed at the mockery, but refused to give up, his blood boiling hot within him. "Well... why not?"

Before the man could answer, the sound of the front door stopped him. Footsteps clicked behind Urbain, but he didn't care to turn around. He would not back down from his opponent.

The footsteps began to move away.

"Wait, Charlotte!"

The footsteps stopped. Urbain's heart went numb, and he dropped his head.

_No... Please... No..._

"Bring those files here." He motioned with one hand.

The footsteps began to click nearer and nearer. At last, they stopped inches away from Urbain, and he sucked in his breath. There, beside him, stood a pair of brown boots.

"Here." The voice was unmistakable.

_No, no, no..._

"Who's this?"

Urbain slowly lifted his gaze, looking sheepishly up at his archenemy.

She stared right back at him in amused surprise. "Urbain?" she scoffed.

_No, no, no, no, no..._

"Wait," the man, whom Urbain realized must be Charlie's father, started. "You know him?!"

"Yeah," Charlie answered, still looking expectantly at her cornered enemy.

"How?" the inspector demanded, glaring down at the poor boy, then at his daughter.

"Pfft," the girl scoffed. "Please. No need to worry about _him_." The words almost hurt. "Besides," she continued, "since when did you start caring?"

"Hmph." Crossing his arms, the man turned back to Urbain. "Where were we? Ah, yes. I believe you were leaving."

Urbain looked from Charlie to her father, and then back again. Something in her eyes-maybe amusement, maybe indifference, or... maybe something else-urged him to press on.

Straightening up, he looked back at the inspector, determined. "Actually," he replied, "I believe I was applying for a position. Would you be kind enough to direct me to the _proper_ authorities?"

For a moment, Urbain thought the man might pounce on him. In that moment, he was terrified, but he wouldn't show it. In the corner of his eye, he saw Charlie's eyebrows raise, a smile spreading across her face as she looked from him to her father.

That face made it all worth it.

At last, the inspector broke away, heading towards a nearby desk. Picking up a sheet of paper, he stalked back over to the boy. "Here."

Urbain took the paper shakily. Looking at it, he was surprised to find that it was not a death sentence, but a job application.

"What...?" He lifted his gaze, confused.

"Bring it back once you've filled it out," the man mumbled. "The secretary will review it. Good luck." With that, he strode away up the stairs, hands in his pockets.

Stunned, the boy watched him go, then turned to Charlie. She had a pleased smirk on her face.

"Well," she laughed, "you've got guts, I'll give you that."

He could feel his cheeks redden a bit at the half-compliment. "Whatever."

Charlie looked down for a moment, inhaled, and then turned back to Urbain. "You know," she chuckled, "you might be a pretty good constable... or whatever you're applying for. Maybe then it won't be so boring around here." With that, she walked away, leaving him alone with the ticking of the clock.

As the door closed, he turned to face it, smiling.

"Maybe I will be a constable."

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><p><strong>This is, like, the first thing that came to my head... So, yeah. I hope you liked it. XD<br>**

**God bless! Don't forget Urbain Month!**

**-LittleBrotherSocket**


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